


Melancholy

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: October 2020 writing challenge [3]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Not even Napoleon Solo can be positive 100% of the time.  Thankfully, he has Illya.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo
Series: October 2020 writing challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981039
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	Melancholy

Illya had known to expect Napoleon getting moody whenever they had a mission in Korea. It was a side that Napoleon didn’t show often, but it was here where his frustrations at the world inevitably showed themselves, for it was here, at 18 years of age, he had been forced against his will to fight in a war he didn’t fully understand.

He still didn’t fully understand war. As far as Napoleon was concerned, there were no winners in war—just loss. People, places, things… gone in a hail of bullets or an explosion. And that was why he worked tirelessly to prevent any other wars breaking out. But some days were harder than others, and coming back to Korea inevitably reminded him of that.

Napoleon didn’t like to show this pessimistic, brooding side to himself—not for someone who was known as a jovial bon vivant who enjoyed living things up. And so, Illya wasn’t surprised when, on their mission downtime, Napoleon had chosen to sequester himself in their hotel room.

Illya went on his own personal mission to procure food for the both of them (knowing Napoleon would likely forego eating when he was in one of these moods), and then returned to the room.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to keep me company,” Napoleon commented from the bed. He was lying on his side, facing the window—away from the door. “I know I’m not the most pleasant person to be around when I’m in one of these moods.”

“How did you know it was me? I could have been a THRUSH assassin for all you knew,” Illya chided.

“Carrying _that_ much food?”

“…Touché. But you must eat something, Napoleon.”

“Hmmh…”

Illya walked around to the other side of the bed to face Napoleon. His American partner looked up at him, and gave a quiet thanks as Illya placed a few takeout boxes on his bedside table.

“You can wait for a while longer, but you should eat,” Illya insisted again. “We have work to do tonight.”

“I know,” Napoleon sighed.

Illya walked back over to the other side of the bed and laid down beside his partner.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“You’ve done more than enough just by being here,” Napoleon said. “I’m just in one of those rare moods where I don’t know how much more I can take… All the hatred and violence… When can we just declare ‘No more,’ and put an end to it all?”

“Realistically?” Illya asked. “Perhaps never.” He gently brushed the back of his fingertips across Napoleon’s forehead. “But if I know you as well as I do, you will continue to take it even after you hit your limit.”

“You think so?” Napoleon asked.

“ _Da_ , I do. Because you would rather shoulder the struggle than give it up knowing that innocents will suffer without your helping to prevent any other wars from breaking out.” He gently moved Napoleon’s chin so that Napoleon was facing him. “And I will do my very best to help you, whatever way I can.” He leaned over and kissed him.

“You always have, since the day I met you,” Napoleon said, returning the kiss. “And I appreciate it.”

He reached up and drew his arms around Illya, who also drew his arms around him.

“Maybe you’re right. Perhaps, with you by my side, I can take more of it.”

“I know I’m right, Napoleon.”

They kissed again, and the food lay on the bedside table, forgotten.


End file.
